


Nothing I Could Tell You

by roebling



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Blow Jobs, Lawsuit fic, M/M, TheBrownieBunch, Unrequited, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roebling/pseuds/roebling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youngjae makes his own way during the hiatus, but it's not as easy to leave everything behind as he'd like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing I Could Tell You

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [the_brownie_bunch_4](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/the_brownie_bunch_4) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Trigger Warning:** none  
>  **Characters and / or Pairings:** any  
>  **Description:** [painting](http://i.imgur.com/3M7rNMh.jpg) [quote](http://i.imgur.com/hF5HCMt.jpg)
> 
> (learning to love and live with oneself)
> 
> For TheBrownieBunch Round 4!! Thank you to the prompter for such an inspiring and interesting quote/picture and thank you to D for the read-through and extremely helpful advice!! <3

"Manager hyung is driving you to the station?"

Daehyun nods. "Yeah," he says. "My bus leaves at 2."

"You better get going," Youngjae says, looking down at his phone. "You're gonna be late."

Daehyun shoves a last few shirts in his bag. He doesn’t look up. "It doesn't take an hour to get to the bus station."

Youngjae frowns. "Could be traffic, though."

"Yeah," Daehyun says, standing up. He heaves his duffle bag to his shoulder with a grunt.

The dorm is empty now. The rest of them have already packed up and moved out. Youngjae's been sleeping at his parent's house for a few weeks.

"You're still mad," Daehyun accuses. “I said I was sorry. I wasn’t thinking …” 

Youngjae shakes his head. "I'm _not_ mad. I already told you I'm not ..." 

Daehyun rolls his eyes. "I know you," he says. "You _are_ mad." 

Youngjae breathes out through his nose. "If I were mad," he says, "it wouldn't matter now anyway." 

Daehyun frowns. He purses his lips. "Everything is going to be fine," he says. "You know we're in the right." 

"I know," Youngjae says, tiredly. He knows. They've talked it all over enough to convince themselves of it, anyway. 

From the door, someone calls Daehyun's name. 

"You're going to be late."

Daehyun frowns. "You should come and visit me," he says. "I'm going to be so bored." 

"I live to entertain," Youngjae says. 

Daehyun frowns at him. "Seriously," he says. "Come visit me."

"I will," Youngjae says.

"Good," Daehyun says. "I'll text you later." 

Youngjae thinks he should say something in reply, but he can't think of anything and by the time he looks up Daehyun is gone. 

******

_wht r u doing i'm bored_

Youngjae frowns at his phone. 

Not a half an hour ago that friend of Daehyun's posted a video of them on Instagram singing and mugging for the camera. Youngjae doesn’t look for these things, but he sees them. 

Bored. Right.

Youngjae hasn't spoken to anyone other than his parents in a week. He doesn't reply. Daehyun doesn't text again for several days. 

*****

It's a cold day, and Youngjae wraps his scarf all the way up around his chin. Just like Junhong, he thinks, and he smiles. 

He should call Junhong. 

Maybe when he gets home. 

He brought his camera. Youngjae likes taking pictures, although he doesn't know much about it. He bought a guide when he bought his camera and he's been teaching himself slowly. He hasn't had much chance lately, or maybe he hasn't been much in the mood. 

Youngjae takes pictures because he wants to remember. There hasn't been much this last half year he's wanted to remember. 

He walks all over. There's nowhere in particular he wants or needs to go. He stops in a used book store, thumbs through stacks of books with yellowed pages. Youngjae has never read much, but maybe he could start now. 

He has the time. 

When he is hungry, he eats lunch by himself in a little cafe. He sits at a table by the window, sipping coffee and staring out the window at the crowds passing by. So many people going so many places, and not one of them looks at him. 

It's nice. 

*****

He has trouble falling asleep. Sometimes he is up at two in the morning and there is no noise in the whole house and he searches for his name -- for their name, for the group's name -- on instiz and Nate Pann. Sometimes there are posts about them. Some people miss them. Sometimes there's nothing. 

Lying in his bed in his parent's house, it seems like he's reading about someone else's life, and someone else's misfortune. 

*****

In the pictures he took in Los Angeles, the sky is a dusty blue. It looks so much calmer than the sky he knows from Seoul. In one picture, that blue sky is framed by the rakish fronds of a palm tree. In another, a black cat sits at the foot of a tall white wall. Pink flowers bubble over the top and spill towards the ground. He has pictures of trees and houses, of streets and crowded sidewalks. There is a picture of a pair of sneakers, laces tied together, dangling from a telephone wire. 

There are no pictures of the other members. Youngjae never took many of those. 

When he remembers that first trip, though, they are the only thing he remembers.

He remembers Junhong's delight and the whir of his skateboard wheels against the asphalt. He remembers Jongup's grin at seeing his cousins, and his wide-eyed amazement at just about everything they saw. He remembers Himchan's easy confidence as he led them into stores and restaurants. He remembers the quiet proud pleasure in Yongguk's eyes. 

He remembers Daehyun. 

Because, maybe, it started before that, but it was on that first trip to the US that it accelerated and became more than just a weird quiet tickle that Youngjae couldn't quite ignore. 

(Truth be told, it started more than a year before that, before they’d even debuted, when Youngjae decided that holding a grudge against the new vocalist the company brought in to bail him out wasn’t worth it. It started, maybe, when Youngjae shook Daehyun’s hand and offered to show him around and Daehyun had smiled, bright and utterly delighted.) 

In the hotel, lying on his back on the spacious bed, Youngjae hums to himself and looks at the day's pictures on his camera. In the other bathroom, Daehyun harmonizes with the bathroom fan. It has been a long day in a long week, and Youngjae doesn't even know what time it's supposed to be right now. The camera is a heavy weight on his chest. He closes his eyes. 

He is tired, but he feels good.

In the other room, the shower stops. Youngjae's turn now, but he doesn't want to get up. 

He is willing himself toward wakefulness when there's a thud and something -- someone -- settles next to him on the bed. 

"Don't get my pillows wet, asshole," he mutters. 

"Relax," Daehyun says. 

Youngjae opens his eyes. Daehyun is lying on his back. He is wearing plaid pajama pants and no shirt. In this light his skin looks dewy and golden.

"Don't you have your own bed?" Youngjae rolls over onto his stomach. 

"Yours is better," Daehyun says. "Closer to the window. You've got a better view." 

Youngjae rolls his eyes, even though Daehyun cannot see. He does this all the time. Acts annoying just to get attention. He thinks he's cute or something. Youngjae thinks Daehyun's an idiot. 

"I should go take a shower," he says.

"So go," Daehyun says. "And if I just happen to fall asleep here, you're going to be stuck with the bed with the shitty view." 

"I don't think I really care which bed had a better view," Youngjae says, "since I normally sleep with my _eyes closed_." 

"You're just jealous." 

Youngjae doesn't dignify that with an answer.

Daehyun folds his hands under his head. He's nervous, full of nervous dancing energy.

A moment later, he asks, "Can you believe it?" 

"Believe what?"

"This," Daehyun says, waving a hand vaguely. "That we're here. That we get to do this." 

Daehyun is constantly amazed, constantly delighted, constantly overflowing with gratitude. Youngjae has worked hard for a very, very long time, but Daehyun's awe always makes Youngjae feel like he is a meagre and ungracious person. 

But then, Daehyun lets himself feel everything to a much greater extent than Youngjae allows. 

"It's crazy," Youngjae says lamely, after a too-long pause. "Is it what you thought?" 

"I didn't even think anything," Daehyun says. 

"Surprise surprise." 

Daehyun tries to kick him, but the angle isn't right. 

"Shut up," he says. "I just mean, I didn't think it was going to be anything like this." 

"What did you think it was going to be like?" Youngjae asks, quietly. They aren't looking at each other, but he can feel Daehyun beside him. 

"Easier," Daehyun says. 

They both laugh. 

"Me too," Youngjae says.

"I thought," Daehyun says. "I thought it would be more like a movie." 

"You would," Youngjae says.

"Shut up," Daehyun says, but his heart isn't in it. "I just mean, I thought it would be more glamorous." 

"Maybe we can ask for sequined jackets for the next tour," Youngjae says. "That would up the glamour." 

"Maybe we can get you a wig and gown," Daehyun says. "The fans would like that." 

Youngjae doesn't say anything. The air conditioner turns on with a gentle exhalation. Daehyun is still jittering his leg. Nervous, nervous. They could raid the minibar, but Youngjae doesn't really like drinking, and they already got in trouble for that once. 

Youngjae didn't think it was going to be like this either. He spent years training, spending almost every day together with the other trainees, but he didn't realize how different it would be to stand on stage with the same five people every day, listening to their fans scream their names. He didn't realize they would become everything to each other. 

He’d been primed to hate Daehyun, when the company first announced they were bringing in a new vocalist, and it’s not like Daehyun’s overwhelming charms won him over. It's just ... sometimes they are together and Youngjae thinks about all the amazing crazy wonderful things that have happened to them and he feels like it could be him and Daehyun against the world. 

It's dumb. He'd never say anything like this out loud. They focus on the small things, and don't talk about emotions. It's fine this way. Youngjae doesn't like mushy stuff.

He thinks maybe that Daehyun understands without anything at all being said. 

"You should get up and shower," Daehyun mumbles. 

"Nngrh," Youngjae groans. "Too tired. I'll shower in the morning." 

"Gross," Daehyun says. 

"You should get up and get in your own bed." 

A pause. "Don't want to," Daehyun says. "I'm too tired." 

Oh. Youngjae swallows. He lies very still waiting for Daehyun to say something else, but he doesn't. After a long time, Youngjae sits up. Daehyun is sleeping on top of the covers, his mouth hanging open. Youngjae slips off his jeans and and pulls on his own pajamas. He goes into the bathroom and washes his face and brushes his teeth. He is quiet. He doesn't want to disturb Daehyun. Finally, he pulls the blanket off Daehyun's bed and throws it over Daehyun on his own. He turns off the lights, and crawls under the covers himself.

In the dark, he shuffles and settles, trying to get comfortable. With a heavy grunt, Daehyun rolls closer to the center of the bed. There are layers of blankets between them, but Youngjae can feel Daehyun's leg pressed up against his. Their elbows bump.

Youngjae breathes in. He holds himself so still, because he’s not sure what he’ll do if he lets himself move. Then Daehyun shifts again and lifts his head. He’s making that face he makes when he wants to seem alluring: eyes wide and lips pursed. Daehyun’s wrong about that face. It just makes him look dumb. 

Youngjae exhales, a little half voiced huff of frustration. 

“What?” Daehyun says. He’s surprisingly loud, for someone who had been feigning sleep. 

Youngjae surges up and kisses him and then Daehyun is quiet, for a little while. 

*****

Some mornings Youngjae goes running by the river. He enjoys it much more now that it’s not an obligation. He does a lazy couple of miles before he stops and sits in the sunshine, watching other joggers and women pushing strollers and people walking their dogs. 

Youngjae wouldn't mind having a pet. He never had a dog or cat growing up -- times weren't good and his parents worked too much. Now though, Youngjae has all the time in the world. He could walk it and feed it and play with it. They could be best buddies. 

Maybe. He'd have to ask his parents, anyway. 

Maybe he could volunteer somewhere, like at an animal shelter. He could walk the dogs and play with the cats and do anything they needed. He likes animals, and he likes helping people, and there’s not any long term commitment. 

He never really thought this would all be over quickly (despite with Yongguk said) but every time Youngjae starts to make a plan it feels a little bit like giving up. He can't move forward but he can't move back, so he's suspended, trapped like a fly in amber. He has always had goals and plans and projects. Plans layered on top of plans so that when things went wrong he had a backup. Now there's just waiting, and all this time by himself. 

It's not that bad, though. He is surprised to realize that he even enjoys it. 

*****

_what's up???????_

When Daehyun is annoyed or angry, his punctuation multiplies. 

_nothing. what's up with you?_

Youngjae rolls over. It's afternoon, and his parents will be home soon. The shades are drawn, and his room is dark and a little musty. He needs to get up and shower, but so far he hasn't done anything today except jerk off and waste time on the internet.

 _where have u been??!!_

Youngjae rolls his eyes. He pulls up his contact list and presses the call button next to Daehyun's name. 

"I haven't been anywhere," he says, when Daehyun answers. 

There's an annoyed exhalation. "Well you haven't been replying to my texts," Daehyun says. 

"I'm a busy person," Youngjae says. "I don't just wait around for you to text me." 

"Please," Daehyun says. "What have you done today?" 

Youngjae frowns. He thinks about the video he jerked off to earlier -- twice.

It had been from the perspective of a man getting blown. Nothing could be seen of that man’s face, just his hairy stomach and his dick. The focus of the video had been the guy sucking him off. He wasn’t especially pretty or anything: he had a big blunt nose and plush lips and longish hair that fell in his eyes. He sat on his hands, and sucked and lapped and kissed, enthusiastic and happy, until the standing man came in thick white spurts, all over the star’s mouth, his chin, his cheeks.

If he'd reminded Youngjae of Daehyun, it had been entirely coincidental. 

"Nothing," Youngjae says. "What have you done today?" 

"My mom made me cut radishes for kimchi," he said. "I sliced open my thumb. I thought I was going to have to get stitches." 

"Huh. I didn't think common domestic chores would be more dangerous than being an idol," Youngjae says. 

Daehyun snorts, amused. "Not more dangerous than that time we had to do that festival in all that rain." 

True. The stage had been slick as ice, with a centimeter of standing water, but their fear of slipping had been subordinate to their fear of getting fucking struck by lightning

"Yeah," Youngjae says. "Well, we all made it out okay." 

"Barely," Daehyun says darkly. 

There it is, the point of contention. 

Were things really that bad? Youngjae didn't think so. At least, he doesn't remember them as that bad. Things were hard, of course, but he had expected that. He never felt what Daehyun did: that things were reaching some critical point, that everything was unraveling to the point where they could never be put right. 

They have had this argument before, and there is no point in having it again now. 

"How's your family?" he asks, instead. 

"Fine," Daehyun says. "You should come down and visit me." 

"I will," Youngjae says. "You could come up and visit me, though." 

"I've already been to your house," Daehyun says. "Come down here and hang out. You can meet Bird and everyone." 

"I've been to your house too," Youngjae says, annoyed. 

"For a _couple of hours_ ," Daehyun says, dismissively. "Come down and stay for a while. We can go to the beach, you can visit my old academy. It'll be great." 

"Maybe," Youngae says. "I'm thinking of taking a photography class, so I have to see when that is." 

"Ah," Daehyun says, triumphant. "Bird likes photography too. You guys would get along so well. Come down." 

Bird this. Bird that. 

Youngjae wonders what Daehyun told his friends in Busan about him.

"Yeah," Youngjae says. "I will." 

In the background, someone screams Daehyun's name. Muffled, he replies, "I'm coming, Ma." Then, clearer, "I've gotta go. You better come and visit me." 

"I will," Youngjae says. "I said I will." 

"Good," Daehyun says. "I'm holding you to that." 

*****

It snows.

Youngjae takes the subway to Seoul Forest. Although the storm has passed, it is still very cold and windy. There aren't many people around. 

The sun makes the flat stretches of snow glitter. They are unbroken, except for the footprints of birds, which are light enough that they just create faint imprints. Youngjae's pictures don't come out well. He needs a lens with a faster shutter speed, or something. 

Maybe he really should take that photography class. 

He walks around for a long time, until he is tired and hungry and wet is soaking in through the soles of his shoes. 

He needs better boots, if he's going to do things like this.

He's enjoyed it, he realizes, and he's already thinking of coming again. Maybe he can ask his parents for a pair of boots for his birthday. 

He does have money of his own. He has some. They didn't get paid much, but Youngjae doesn't spend much. But his mother has been asking what he wants, and a pair of hiking boots seems as practical a gift as any. 

It's not until much later, after dinner that night, that he thinks he should have uploaded one of the pictures he took today to Instagram. The fans would like that, and it's been awhile since he posted. It's not that he forgets about them. He thinks about them all the time. It's just that he doesn't feel like the minutia of his days is worth putting online.

He'll take a selca tomorrow and upload that. They'll like that even better. 

*****

"Oppa," Eunmin says. "You look so tired."

She's one year his junior, his mother's younger sister's daughter. Because his mother and his aunt are close, and because Youngjae and Eunmin are so close in age, she is almost like his sister.

Huh. "I'm not," he says. "All I've been doing is sleeping." 

"Poor Oppa," she says. "What do you want to drink?" 

She goes up and orders his iced Americano and her own mocha, even though he offers to pay. The lawsuit, with its accusations of unfair withholding of profit, seem to have convinced everyone that Youngjae is destitute.

Whatever. He's not going to complain. 

"How's school going?" he asks her, once she's come back with the drinks. 

"It's fine," she says. "I mean, I'm losing mind over my exams, but other than that, it's fine." 

Eunmin is studying economics, and she wants to go abroad for graduate school. She is very, very smart. When Youngjae was younger, they used to compete over grades and class ranks -- in a friendly way. Now, he takes his one or two online classes and hopes that one day he might get his degree, and she moving on to much better things. 

"What about you?" she asks. 

"I'm fine," Youngjae says. 

She frowns. "You're still taking classes online?" 

Youngjae nods. “I’m thinking I might try to transfer next semester. There are a few schools that will take transfer credits, or maybe I’ll try to go abroad.” 

"Is there any news about the lawsuit?" She asks, frowning.

Youngjae shrugs. "The company is still delaying things," he says.

It shows how naive they are, that they never thought of that. What else could happen? Of course TS isn't just going to roll over and play dead at the first mention of a law suit. Of course they'll try to twist things to their advantage. Sonamoo ust debuted, and things aren’t going as well with Secret as they used to. They can’t afford any bad press.

“Hopefully you’ll hear something soon,” she says. “What else have you been doing? Dating? Do you have a girlfriend?” 

Youngjae almost laughs. “No,” he says. “No, of course not.” He’d considered -- for maybe two hours -- creating a profile on a dating site. He’s just not interested in meeting new people though. “What about you? Do you have a boyfriend? A crush?" 

"Oppa!" she says, indignant. "I'm not going to tell you that!" 

"Ohhhh, you do," he teases, grinning. 

Laughing, Eunmin continues to deny, but her resolve won't last long. Youngjae knows her too well.

Good. This is better. He hadn't wanted to meet up to talk about sad things. He doesn't need anyone's sympathy, or anyone's comfort. He just missed his cousin. It’s nice to have the time to reconnect. 

*****

“Nice pictures,” Youngjae says. 

Daehyun’s friend Bird took them. They are artful and trendy. Daehyun makes moon eyes and duck lips at the camera in atmospheric surroundings. Youngjae isn’t online as much these days, but he saw the fans talking on Twitter, on Instagram, delighted and giddy.

“Hello Youngjae,” Daehyun says. “Nice to talk to you too. It’s been so long since I last heard your voice that I was starting to forget what you sounded like.” 

“I called you a few days ago,” Youngjae says.

“That was last month,” Daehyun says. 

Youngjae has a hangnail on the index finger of his left hand. He flicks it and flinches at the pain. 

“You could call me too, you know,” Youngjae says. “But I guess you’ve been busy taking erotic photos …” 

Daehyun laughs. “Erotic photos? Come on. We’ve done way worse than that for photoshoots before.”

“You wouldn’t know from the way the fans are talking,” Youngjae says, annoyed. He pulls at the hangnail again, and cringes. He doesn’t know why he cares about Daehyun’s pictures. It doesn’t matter to him, not in the least. He goes days at a time now without thinking of Daehyun.

“Bird is really good,” Daehyun says, pleased. “We’re going to do another shoot sometime soon.” 

“Cool,” Youngjae says, flat. 

“If you’d come down here, he’d take some of us together,” Daehyun said. “The fans would love that.” 

“That’s okay,” Youngjae says. He pulls, and the hangnail comes free. A red dot of blood wells up. “I don’t need any glamour shots right now. I’m keeping a low profile.”

Daehyun laughs. “They’re not glamour shots,” Daehyun says. “We were just, you know, fooling around.” 

Youngjae knows what Daehyun looks like in the morning, and he knows what he looks like when he’s washed his makeup off after a show and there’s mascara all smeared under his lower eyelashes. He knows what Daehyun looks like those rare moments when he doesn’t feel like he has to perform, and it’s nothing like those photos. Daehyun isn't some soft romantic with alluring gestures and eyes dripping honey. Daehyun is loud and needy to the point of being an irritation. Daehyun insists that Youngjae repack his bag every day. Daehyun has acne along his jawline and a big nose. He is a pain. 

Youngjae knows what Daehyun looks like when he’s fooling around. 

They’ve fooled around enough, haven’t they? 

*****

During that second tour things are wonderful and awful all at once. The shadow of the lawsuit already looms. They've talked about their discontent, met with the lawyers. They all know it's coming and so everything is magnified: the discomfort and struggle and the excitement and awe. 

The first show in New York goes very well. The crowd cheers and screams and dances so much the room vibrates, and it almost seems like enough to make any amount of hardship worth it. They go out to eat -- a private room in a good barbecue restaurant, and this year Daehyun is old enough to drink. They have a good time, and it is late by the time they all head back to the hotel. 

Youngjae and Daehyun's room is on the 18th floor. Everyone else was on the 15th. Youngjae waves as Junhong and Jongup, Himchan and Yongguk, all the manager hyungs and dancer hyungs and the makeup nuna spill out of the elevator. The doors slides shut. 

"I'm not tired," Daehyun says. 

"Hmm," Youngjae says. "I am." 

"We're in New York City! I want to go do something." Daehyun sighs, and leans back against the elevator wall. He looks washed out and tired in the florescent lights. 

"They would kill us if we snuck out," Youngjae says.

"You're so lame," Daehyun says. 

Youngjae frowns. He's not lame -- he's _tired_. He generally has a good constitution, but he doesn't hold up well to time changes. He's disoriented and irritable longer than anyone else. 

The elevator stops. 18th floor. The doors slide open and Daehyun takes the key card out of his wallet. 

"So what do you want to do?" Youngjae asks quietly.

Their room is down a long winding corridor.

Daehyun shrugs. "I don't know. Go to a club. Dance. Pick up girls." 

Youngjae snorts. 

"Hey!" Daehyun says. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Go to a club? Pick up girls?" Youngjae rolls his eyes. "When have you ever done that?" 

"Well," Daehyun says, indignantly. "Never, but that doesn't mean I couldn't. I could pick up a girl, Youngjae!" 

"Okay," Youngjae says. "Sure." 

In their room, everything is clean and quiet. Daehyun flops onto his bed and lies with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish. 

"Gonna go wash up," Youngjae says, grabbing his pajamas from his bag

In the bathroom mirror his reflection is wan. There are dark shadows under his eyes. He takes off his shirt and jeans and washes his face with soap and water. He scrubs, but there's some stubborn eyeliner that won't come off. He puts on a fresh tee and pajama pants, and grabs his dirty clothes. 

"Bathroom's all yours," Youngjae says. 

Daehyun doesn't say anything, which is unusual. Then, after a moment, he says, "I really could pick up a girl, you know. If we went out." 

Youngjae rolls his eyes. "Okay," he says.

"Girls _like_ me. I just never get the chance to meet anyone," Daehyun says, glum. A little while ago he'd been electric: talking a mile a minute and beaming like he'd just won the lottery. Now, this. 

"You meet people," Youngjae says. "What's wrong with you right now?" 

Daehyun shrugs. "I don't know," he says. "Just lonely, I guess." 

"Lonely? Are you serious?" They just had hundreds of people screaming their names. Youngjae doesn't understand Daehyun when he gets like this. He runs too hot and cold. "We can have a party here." 

Daehyun looks over. "Oh yeah? With who?" He sounds skeptical and annoyed. 

Youngjae shrugs. He feels like maybe Daehyun has infected him with some of his uneasy, unhappy urgency. "Just us," he says.

"Lame," says Daehyun. 

"Yeah, I guess," Youngjae says. He sighs. "We can order room service." 

Food is a reliable way to bring Daehyun around. 

"Just forget it," Daehyun says, annoyed. "I'm just going endure until I wither away into an ancient crumbling husk." 

So that's it. 

"Go jerk off in the shower," Youngjae says irritably. 

Daehyun throws a pillow at him. "That's not the point," he say. His cheeks are red. He's so easy to embarrass. Youngjae's brother taught him about all this stuff when he was eleven -- gave him his old skin mags, too. It's never seemed weird to Youngjae, but he's not sure that Daehyun jerked off all until he moved into the dorm. 

"What's the point then?" 

Daehyun shrugs, uneasy. "I just ... I want to be close to someone." 

Youngjae doesn't answer, because he's not sure he understands. They're close to people all the time: the other guys, and the fans, and the staff and ... _each other_. For the past three years, they have spent almost every single day together. 

That's enough for Youngjae. That's more than enough. 

Maybe it's the knowledge that this year is the last chance they might ever have -- ominous storm clouds loom on the horizon. He's thought about this for a long time. Maybe he wants Daehyun to realize that he’s already got someone to be close to. Maybe he just wants Daehyun to shut up. It doesn't really matter _why_. 

"Come here," he says. 

Daehyun looks up, eyes wide. "What?" 

"Come here," Youngjae says, tiredly. "I'll blow you if you want." 

" _What_?" 

“It’s not a big deal,” Youngjae says, even though his stomach is suddenly aching with tension. "It'll make you feel better." 

"You've _done that_ before?" Daehyun's voice is tense, a little too high pitched. 

Youngjae shrugs. "Yeah," he says. 

No, he hasn't, but he understands the concept well enough. 

Daehyun stares at him, eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking with me? Is this some kind of hidden camera?” 

Youngjae rolls his eyes. “It’s not a _big deal_ ,” he says. “You said you wanted to be close to someone?” He What … am I not good enough?” He presses hands into his thighs to still their shaking. 

“What? No!” Daehyun protests. “No, I mean … Okay. Fine.” He looks up, pale and with avid eyes. “What should I do?” 

“Sit on the edge of the bed.”

Daehyun scoots forward. Suddenly, everything seems very serious. The room is small, and there’s not anywhere for Youngjae to look other than at Daehyun. He brushes his bangs out of his eyes. 

He hesitates a moment, and almost makes it all into a joke -- haha, just kidding, did you really think ...? 

But no. Because this is his last chance, maybe. 

He kneels in front of Daehyun. The room is so small that his toes bump against the desk chair. Daehyun looks down at him with dark eyes. 

"Okay," Youngjae says. "Lift your hips." 

Daehyun does. He helps Youngjae work his sleep pants and his underwear down around his thighs. Youngjae pulls them lower. Daehyun's thighs are pale and covered in fine dark hair. His dick is big and dark and half hard, nestled in between his thighs. 

Youngjae swallows. Okay. He knows how to do this, in theory. He runs his hands up and down Daehyun's thighs, slowly. He wraps his hand around Daehyun's dick. It feels ... normal. Not all that different than Youngjae's, silky hot skin over the hardening shaft. Youngjae licks his lips, pulls them over his teeth, and takes Daehyun into his mouth. 

Daehyun makes a soft, strangled noise. His hands are at his side. He doesn't look at Youngjae, just stares straight ahead with half closed eyes. 

It's not as strange as he thought. It's ... it's okay. Daehyun tastes bitter and salty. It's not a bad taste. Daehyun is bigger than he realized, even though they've showered together often enough that it shouldn't have been a surprise. Or maybe he just feels bigger, heavy and huge, stretching the corners of Youngjae's mouth.

Youngjae can't take him in very far. He keeps one hand on Daehyun's thigh, stroking it lightly, although Youngjae thinks it does more to steady him than anything for Daehyun. It's hard to tell if this is good or not, because for once in his life Daehyun isn't saying anything. Youngjae tries something different -- running his tongue along the slit, under the head, down the ridge of flesh that runs down the bottom. Daehyun twitches. All the soft flat muscles in his stomach clench. 

Youngjae's mouth hurts. He pulls off and takes a deep breath. His mouth is slick with spit. He licks the side of Daehyun's cock, tongue dragging.

Daehyun gasps, and Youngjae feels a quiet delighted moment of triumph. 

That's right, he thinks. He's right here. He's the one making Daehyun feel this way. 

"You really have done this before," Daehyun says then, almost accusatory. 

Youngjae can't reply, which is a good thing. 

"Who?" Daehyun asks, but he doesn't seem like he's expecting an answer. His voice is all thin and tense, choking on pleasure. Youngjae knows this is the first time Daehyun has ever done anything like this with anyone. He runs his tongue over Daehyun's slit. The bitter salty taste is stronger. He likes the way that Daehyun's thigh jumps under his hand, so he does it again and again. 

"Fuck,” Daehyun says, shakily. “I’m gonna ....” 

Youngjae sits back, just in time. Daehyun moans, weak and high pitched, and comes in fitful spurts, all over Youngjae’s hand. He flops back, chest heaving. 

Youngjae blinks. He gets up. His knees ache. In the bathroom, he washes his hands, scrubbing for a long time with hot water and soap. He brushes his teeth, and then he washes his face. He sits down on the edge of the tub. He can’t hear anything from the other room. 

He’s spent long hours imagining this. This? Imaging something, anyway. And now … what? 

What exactly was he thinking? He and Daehyun are never going to have a storybook romance. In a few months, they might not even be in a group together. 

Youngjae grabs a clean towel from the towel rack. 

Daehyun opens his eyes when Youngjae drops the towel on his chest. 

“Um,” he says. “That was … How did you learn how to do _that_?” 

Youngjae smirks, and shrugs. “Practice.” 

More like illegally downloaded porn and low expectations on the part of the recipient. 

“I could … Do you want …?” It’s not common for Daehyun to be struck speechless. Youngjae feels a little bloom of pride. 

“Next time,” he says.

When Daehyun is in the bathroom washing up, Youngjae gets under the covers. He turns out the light next to his bed. The noise of the sink running in the bathroom stops. The other light clicks off. The room is dark. 

“Good night,” Daehyun says. 

“Night,” Youngjae says. 

*****

"I'm not bored," Youngjae says. 

"I know," his mother says. 

"I mean," Youngjae says. "It's nice to have some time off. Get away from the guys. Relax." 

"I know," she says, putting a fried egg on top of his bowl of rice. "I'm glad you have time off. I'm just worried you're going to get lonely hanging out with two old people." 

It's a drowsy Saturday morning. Youngjae is wearing a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. He’s tired, even though he slept well. 

"I'm not old," Youngjae's father says, gruff. 

"You're young at heart, honey," his mother says, patting him on the shoulder. 

"I like hanging out with you guys," Youngjae says. It's not like he doesn't have friends. Youngjae is a friendly person. He has lots of friends. He just ... 

Sometimes, lately, it seems like everyone is moving quickly ahead and he's standing still and there's no way to reconcile the difference in velocity. 

He doesn't mind, exactly.

"I'm going to take more classes next term," Youngjae says. If everything goes well, maybe in the fall he'll go full time. 

There's no telling what will happen, of course, but Youngjae likes to keep his future in mind. 

"Good," his father says.

"Everything will work out," his mother says. 

Youngjae knows. He knows that. You lose things and you move on, and that’s life. 

He's not worried. 

*****

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Youngjae says. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“Done what?” Daehyun’s voice is flat and tired. He is lying flat on his back on the bed in Youngjae’s small room in the new dorm. 

“Post cryptic messages on Twitter. The fans are all freaking out. What’s _wrong_?” 

Daehyun swallows. He’s not wearing any makeup and there are dark circles under his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says quietly. “I’m just sick of all this bullshit. I’m sick of waiting and pretending things are going to get better. I’m sick of it, Youngjae.” 

“Yongguk hyung says …” 

“Fuck Yongguk,” Daehyun says. “Do you really think he has any idea what’s going on?” 

Youngjae doesn’t think Yongguk really knows what’s going on, but he also doesn’t think that anything that’s happened is bad enough to warrant what Daehyun has done. He isn’t being prosecuted. It’s just been a series of bad luck and unfortunate coincidences.

“It’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be,” he says. 

Daehyun stands up, suddenly. “Yes, it is!” His voice is shrill. “It’s everything, Youngjae. They aren’t paying us and they aren’t taking care of us and nobody is doing anything about it. I can’t even _sing_ because they don’t …” 

“And everyone knows it’s a crime if the world is deprived of Jung Daehyun’s voice.” Youngjae shakes his head. “It was one performance.” 

“You’re just jealous,” Daehyun says, low.

“And you’re going to break up the group.” Youngjae hisses. “Do you really think that would be better? Is that what you really want?” 

“If that’s what it takes to get treated with the respect I deserve as a performer, then yes,” Daehyun’s voice is low. “It’s worth it, Youngjae. It’s not like we were going to do this forever anyway.” 

Youngjae feels something dark and cold slither into his chest. It’s not worth it, Youngjae thinks. Is anything worth giving up everything they have? Is anything worth dealing with whatever would come after?

“Get out,” he says.

Daehyun goes. 

*****

Youngjae pats his hair flat. It's getting too long. He has to get it cut, but it's been a long time since he's had to figure that kind of thing out on his own. It was easy to take those company-organized, company-paid trips to the stylist for granted. 

They have a meeting with the lawyers. Youngjae is wearing a subdued sweater and his nice slacks. He's the first to arrive. The receptionist knows him by sight now, and smiles when he comes in. He sits in the corner and checks Instagram and Twitter and tries to distract himself from how nervous he feels. It will be okay in the end, he knows, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. 

The door opens. Himchan and Yongguk come in together.

"Yoo Youngjae," Himchan says, coming up to sit next to him. "Yoo Youngjae in the flesh! It's been too long.” 

"Hi hyung," Youngjae says. "How was New York?"

"Amazing," Himchan says. "I want to go back. I wish I'd never left."

"I wish I could have gone anywhere at all," Youngjae grumbles, although he doesn't really. He just knows that Himchan would want him to be a bit jealous. 

Himchan narrows his eyes. "What _have_ you been doing? You haven't been posting online and I can't remember the last time you replied to any of my texts? Have you been leaving your house?" 

Youngjae nods. "Of course I've been leaving my house," he says, self-consciously. "I've been fine. Just -- you know -- keeping busy." He doesn’t know how to explain that he’s fine with filling his hours with simple, quiet things, by himself.

Just then Jongup and Junhong come in together. 

"God," Himchan says, "Are you ever going to stop growing?" 

Junhong, looming taller than ever, just grins. 

Daehyun arrives last. He'd sent a text saying his train was delayed, and he would come right from the station. He bursts through the door in disarray, with his coat half hanging off his shoulders.

"Sorry," he says. "Sorry. Traffic was terrible!"

He looks just the same. No different at all. He's even wearing a familiar sweater. Youngjae borrowed it once and spilled tteokbokki sauce all down the front. Daehyun had been so mad, even though the stain had come out. 

Daehyun sits down next to Youngjae. 

“Hey,” he says, grinning and nudging Youngjae with his shoulder. “The mysterious Yoo Youngjae. What’s up? When are you going to visit me?” 

“Cut it out,” Youngjae says, mock annoyed, twisting away from Daehyun. He forgot how much he missed this. “I’m gonna come visit soon. I’ve just been … you know, busy.”

“Good,” Daehyun says. “I was beginning to think you found a new best friend.” 

Youngjae exhales. “Nope,” he says. “No new best friends.” 

Daehyun beams. 

The door leading out of reception opens. 

"Good," the lawyer says. "You're all here, so let’s get started." 

There is no good news. The conversation does not go well. The lawyer suggests that they start talking with the company. 

“It might be in your best interests to try and salvage what you have,” he says. “You can try to renegotiate the contract. It won’t be the same, but you don’t have to start all over.” 

“I see,” Yongguk says. “Thank you.” 

He smiles at them and says he’ll be in touch if he hears anything more. He is a good man and he’s trying to help them as much as he can. 

Out in the sunshine, things seem a little better. Yongguk walks in the front. This all upsets him the most. Youngjae wishes he could make it a little easier, but he honestly doesn’t know how. Himchan is arguing with Jongup and Junhong about where they should go for lunch. 

Youngjae shoves his hands in his pockets. “So,” he says. “Maybe I could come down in a few weeks.” 

Daehyun’s eyes are wide. “Yeah?” he says. “That would be great.” 

Youngjae nods. “The weather’s getting nicer. I’ve been doing a lot of hiking lately. Maybe we could go camping.” 

“Camping?” Daehyun sounds amused. “You’re turning into an outdoorsman. Are you going to show up at my front door with a huge beard, dressed in plaid or something? Is that our next concept?” 

Youngjae frowns. “If you don’t want to go maybe I’ll just go by myself. A solo trek.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Daehyun says, bumping his shoulder into Youngjae’s. “Of course I’m gonna come.” 

“Cool,” Youngjae says. 

“No backing out this time,” Daehyun says, and then he jogs up ahead to interject himself into the discussion about where they should go eat. 

Youngjae shakes his head. Daehyun throws himself on Himchan and Junhong, arms thrown over their shoulder. Some things don’t change, but nothing is going to be the same. Either way, he thinks he’ll be okay.


End file.
